


Old Soldiers Never Diet

by boomhammered (spaecwarier)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dieting Mentions, Feeding Kink, Food Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, Weight Gain, body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaecwarier/pseuds/boomhammered
Summary: Jack’s fuming inside. How could he allow his enemy to come home with him? Who slips up that bad? He does, of course he does!He bows his head closer to Reaper, trying to be intimidating. “Give me one good reason why I should calm down.”“I brought you breakfast.”
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Kudos: 20





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you somehow recognize this, yes it was originally posted on tumblr some years back! Just making a few minor edits and reposting here cause I still like how this came out. Enjoy!

_Look at you, Jack._

He wakes with a sharp gasp, hands frantically searching for his pulse rifle. All his hands grab are faded sheets that have twisted around his body. When his vision adjusts in the dim light, Jack realizes he’s back at his apartment. He doesn’t remember coming back here after the mission–

The mission. _Shit!_

Jack buries his head in his hands and grumbles. He's surprised to feel his visor still on, but he's also too disappointed to care at the moment. The payload got taken. Someone out there has important information. Someone likely very dangerous. Plus, he could only hope the others made it out okay. Why was last night so unclear in his mind?

A soft beeping in another room breaks the silence. Jack sighs and unhinges the mask from his face. He places it on the drawer next to the bed and picks up his glasses. Never before had he been more thankful to set up the coffee machine. He could really use a cup right now. Drink up and try to figure out his next step.

The room feels like its rocking beneath his feet as Jack walks. There’s a mild pressure building behind his eyes. Too soon to tell if it’s stress or another migraine. The kitchen greets him with a warm scent, which helps a bit. He gathers everything he needs: the cup, some aspirin, sugar, and milk. The coffee alone tastes too strong– the machine had a tendency to make it that way no matter what settings he used. The apartment and everything in it came cheap, so he took what he got.

He swallows the pills while mixing the milk in his coffee, and spoons two heaping lumps of sugar before he pauses. He was going for another scoop, but some stray thought makes him hesitate. Something he hadn’t thought about for a while.

_That’s more than enough, don’t go overboard with the junk._

What the hell made him care about that? Those days were over. He wasn’t presenting to the public anymore, it was the exact opposite now. Almost as if punishing that thought, Jack mixes in another two scoops. He had a big mug anyway. The hot, sweetened drink soothes him almost immediately.

That’s when clarity hit him.

He remembers going off on his own during the mission. Escorting the payload through Dorado started off well, too quiet really. Right when suspicion was creeping in, a sudden barrage of attackers arrived. The flood of bullets and explosions almost made Jack miss it, but he caught a dark figure running off into a smaller street. He knew if he didn’t stop them, they might come back with another surprise attack. No one was going to run away from him.

He charged in, ready to fire his helix rockets for a quick kill. The only thing his eyes meet in the darkness was a dead end. The street was empty despite no discernible exits. Jack fought whether or not to head back, but he was so certain that the enemy came through here. His visor spotted no movements. In fact, even the air felt still.

Unsure if he was the one being watched, Jack moved to a more shadowy side of the street to keep hidden. That was his big mistake. Within seconds of entering the shade, the darkness threatened to envelop him as if it had substance. Which, he realized quickly that it kind of did. Something pulled at his side with enough force to make him stumble with his rifle. It clattered to the floor, thankfully no rounds going off. He dives to retrieve it as fast as he could, but there’s a terribly familiar press on his back when he gets to his knees. The barrels of two particularly large guns.

“Watch your step.”

The voice chills him, but Jack tries his best to remain still. “Reaper.”

There’s a laugh behind him. “Happy to see me again?”

Jack crossed Reaper only a few times. In passing glances on the battlefield with the full intent to destroy. He didn’t try to think of this adversary as anything more than a target. This was the closest they’ve ever had to being alone since Egypt. There’s a part of him that wants to respond to the question, but he stays silent.

“Guess not.” The barrels dig harder into Jack’s back. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure this is our last time.”

Those words trigger Jack’s instinct to take over. He whirls around Reaper with just enough speed to miss the shot. At least most of it; his jacket singes and he can feel a sharp pain at his hip. Fighting through it with grit teeth, he aims and fires his rifle back. A few shots get Reaper before he vanishes into smoke again.

Jack uses the moment to activate his biotic grenade. The device gives off enough light to give a clear view of the street. That’s how he notices the shadow of a corner flickering strangely. Taking no chances, he fires his rockets in that direction. The walls there crumble on impact, and there’s a deep-voiced yell.

When the pain in his hip dulled, Jack left the biotic field to search the rubble. There’s black wisps rising from them, but no body to be seen.

Now he was getting annoyed. “Stop hiding and fucking fight me!”

“This would be more fun if you weren’t so slow.”

Reaper’s voice came from above. Jack faced upward ready to shoot, but finds Reaper diving toward him. Both men slam into the street, arms wrapping around the other trying to contain or strangle. Reaper finds an advantage using his clawed gloves, one hand digging so hard into his throat it threatened to slice it open. The other dragged down Jack’s chest, shredding the fabric of his jacket along the way.

Then that hand pauses, and then presses down on Jack’s flesh. It goes down a few inches, now palming his midsection. Reaper presses again.

It takes a moment for Jack to realize what’s happening. He freezes while staring at his assailant now seemingly examining his body. 

“Hey,” Jack’s voice is much weaker than he intended. “What are you…?”

“I can’t believe this.” Reaper mumbles. It sounds more like he’s talking to himself. He grows more thrilled with each word. “You, of all people. You were always so damn strict. So stubborn.”

He grabs Jack by the hip, the talons making him gasp sharply. Reaper laughs at that, sounding so delighted. It was making Jack more irritated, confused, and.. self conscious?

“What made you give up?” Reaper asks, moving his masked face closer toward Jack’s. The hand still on his throat tightens again, murderous intent clearly coming back. “Losing your precious position? Losing the admiration of everyone around you? They probably wouldn’t approve of you looking like this.”

Jack did not want to touch on the past. Not like this. 

“The hell are you getting at?” Jack yells through his strained throat.

As Reaper closes his grip on Jack, there’s a swirling mass of black surrounding them. Jack feels himself being lifted effortlessly while Reaper appears to reform his body into an upright position. Jack tries to use the moment as a chance to struggle his way out, but everything feels strangely heavy, like some unseen force was keeping him restrained. He’s roughly jerked around to now have his back toward Reaper. 

“Look at you, Jack.” Reaper’s voice echoes, dripping with amusement. There’s a window to some closed building in front of them, dark inside with only sparse moonlight to show a reflection.

“You’ve gotten old, and you’ve gotten fat.”

Jack remembers the utter disbelief of a statement so unexpected. He remembers feeling a hot mix of emotions while Reaper continued to soak the image in the window up. Then there was a loud crash, and everything went blank again in his head.

–

Jack gulps down the rest of his coffee, and promptly makes another cup exactly the same way. He probably shouldn’t, as his hands were trembling from his recollections. There was still so much missing, still a lot he didn’t understand about last night. But he did know, he knew why Reaper was acting so strangely. Maybe Gabriel really wasn’t dead.


	2. 2

Jack almost curses out loud when he enters Gabriel’s station. Travelling worldwide for Overwatch's missions has made him lose track of time before. Still, he should have known. Fuck!

“Hey,” Gabriel’s face lights up and he gives a beckoning wave. “Just in time for lunch.”

Jack’s eyes scan over Gabriel’s desk. Among important documents and scattered firearms, he counts seven large white paper bags, all spotted with grease. The smell of fried dough is hanging thick in the room. He swallows the water already pooling in his mouth.

“Only lunch?” He tries so sound sarcastic, curling his lip to a smirk.

There’s a pause. “Well, leave enough for my team, okay? They asked for some.”

Gabriel points to the bags. “I know this one is burgers, that’s definitely chicken, two of these are only donut holes –what? There was a special at the joint today, twenty for two bucks? No one would pass that up– Anyway, take whatever sounds good. You must need something after beating down a bunch of rust buckets, hm?”

It really was nice of him to share his food so last second. Jack did find the offer somewhat endearing. He keeps his gaze straight at Gabriel, ignoring the desk.

“Actually,” Jack taps at the tablet in his hand. “I’m simply here for a debriefing of the mission. You know, the usual.”

“Ah,” Gabriel nods, but he’s paying more attention to the bag he’s fishing through. He pulls out some kind of wrapped sandwich. “Well, let’s debrief then. Did you eliminate the omnic threat?”

Jack laughs while rolling his eyes. “We did, sir.” He hands the tablet over. “This has any information we were able to gather about them. We’re putting it into our database now.”

Gabriel takes the device and looks it over. Jack’s eyes flicker to the sandwich in his other hand, despite himself. It’s fried chicken, two large breasts layered with cheese and sauces. Gabriel nonchalantly takes a huge bite while reading. A drop of sauce gets on his beard because of it. Jack’s stomach is fluttering.

_Not again_ , he dreads silently.

“Ana was with you, right?” Gabriel’s staring at him now, his eyes searching.

Jack snaps out of it. “Yeah. She’s checking in with Fareeha, I’m sure. She’s fine.”

“Good,” he goes back to the tablet. He must have detected the drop, cause he takes his thumb and wipes it off… and then sucks it off slowly. Gabriel’s full lips are slick with saliva. Jack hates himself so much. He should ask to be excused. All that Gabriel really needs is in his hand.

“I see you staring longingly,” Gabriel peeks at him from the side with a terrible grin. “Shit’s delicious Jack, have a little.”

Jack sighs, a long rehearsed line coming back in his mind. “You know I can’t. None of this food is approved in my diet.”

“That you’re on for no real reason.” Gabriel adds immediately. He sets down the tablet and starts on another sandwich.

“Wanting to is reason enough,” Jack bites back, but the words feel flimsy inside. The smell of the chicken reminds him of the ones his mother would fry growing up.

“Fine, I won’t argue that.” Gabriel shrugs. “But please, stop me when I’m wrong. We were subjects in the same program, right?”

“Ugh… yes.”

“We were?” He mocks surprise with a mouth half-full. Jack finds the expression irritatingly cute. “Then we got a lot of the same genetic treatments.”

“We did.”

“Well, I dunno about you, but this body uses a fuckton of energy.” Gabriel pats his chest. “So, not only do I get really, really hungry, but this super metabolism of mine burns every last bit of my meals. There’s days where I still want more even after food like this.”

Something about that thought makes Jack cross his legs. He’s been there many times. Even with all the careful calculations of his diet plan, he won’t always be entirely sated. There were times he had cravings.

“I guess that happens to me.” Jack states quietly. “Once in a while.”

Gabriel nods thoughtfully. “Then I think we can come to the reasonable conclusion that you have nothing to worry about. I can eat whatever I want and still have the most killer abs you’ve ever seen.”

Without warning, Jack watches Gabriel get up from his chair and pull his top to reveal said body parts. Gabe's fingers trace the clear definition of muscle there. The haughty look he gives stirs very work inappropriate feelings in Jack’s gut.

_Enough of this. If Gabe wants to play around, then its time to fight back._

“Yeah yeah,” Jack reaches out with the intention to cover the man back up before someone walks in. His hand lingers on the exposed skin. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. Besides–”

He grabs a handful of Gabriel’s top and pulls hard enough to bring him closer. Not that there’s much of a struggle. Jack uses his other hand to reach around behind Gabriel.

“– I think you’re misleading your case. I know where all your indulgences have gone.”

Jack grabs hard onto the delectable abundance that is Gabriel’s ass. The action is met with a groan and some squirming. He momentarily savors how his fingertips just sink in without fail.

“Oh yeah,” His voice is so low he almost growls. “There it is.”

There’s this indignant frown wrinkling Gabriel’s face, but the slight blush is unmistakable. “You know it’s always been like that!”

“Oh sure, but I definitely think you’ve gotten a bit bigger.” Jack gives one cheek a little pinch and chuckles. “Just a bit.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh yeah,” Jack adds, trailing his hand down Gabriel’s thigh. “These too. Especially these thighs, damn. These pants comfortable, Gabe?”

He makes an annoyed grunt, but Jack notes how he doesn’t try to move away. He crosses his arms with a huff.

“Even if you were right, are you really going to look me in the eye and say that’s a bad thing?”

Jack really thinks about that for a split second. Sure, he’s just being a shit right now to get back at Gabriel. Though, to picture him with somewhat fuller thighs, that ass even more impossibly round than it is already.

“I could–” Jack stops himself saying that out loud. A rush of panic takes over. _I could get into it?_

Gabriel didn’t appear to hear him. Half of him is turned back to the desk, going through another bag. This time he pulls out several of those donut holes, coated with cinnamon sugar.

“Maybe you should have some of these then, do your own ass a favor.” Gabriel grumbles at him. He immediately pops some in his mouth.

Oh, we’re going there now. Jack knows his envy of Gabe’s shapely legs hadn’t exactly been, well, subtle. No amount of specific exercises seemed to change anything. He wasn’t taking Gabe’s advice… not now anyway.

Shit, something was making him reconsider. He needed to go. Needed to quiet these thoughts.

“I think we’re done with questioning.” Jack says. “Don’t want your lunch to get cold.”

“Hmph,” Gabriel pouts back. “Fine, get out of here. Dismissed.”

Jack leans in to give him a small parting kiss. At first, anyway. Not when he realizes that Gabriel’s mouth tastes wonderfully sweet. It was the first sweet thing to touch his mouth in months. Big mistake. Jack takes a hand through the man’s dark curls and kisses a few more times. Each kiss deepens, he pins Gabriel to his desk. He risks sliding his tongue in for a bit, and Gabriel gladly reciprocates. It’s so good. He wants another taste.

_Okay, enough._ He has to tell himself after a minute. The two of them break away, equally breathless. Gabriel’s eyeing him while licking his lips.

“Does that count as breaking your plan?” He asks Jack with this huge smile.

Jack laughs, it’s admittedly a bit funny. “Consider it a little cheat. I find my workarounds.”

He gives a little wink before turning to leave. Duty must call elsewhere at these headquarters. Maybe it was time for him to get his own meal. Right when the automatic doors were closing, he heard behind him:

“Whatever Jack. You won’t always be able to.”


	3. 3

The glare of the bathroom light stings his eyes for moment. Jack grumbles, adjusts the glasses sliding down his nose, and rubs off any residue on the mirror. Having finished his coffee and thoughts, he figured the next thing to do was a personal inspection. See if anything on his body held any more clues as to what happened between him and Reaper.

The face reflecting at him is frowning deeply. Every crease and line is more prominent than he remembers. His eyes are heavy with fatigue. Nothing new there. His hair is slightly mussed with dirt and possibly blood, and he spots a dark bruise high on his forehead. Jack carefully prods at it with his finger, only to pull back with a hiss. _Hurts like a motherfucker._

Now on to the rest of his body. He chucks his jacket aside, thinking that one is too damaged to wear again. The protective layer of clothes underneath seems to be intact, with the exception of where he got shot in the hip. Carefully, he peels it off and looks closer. The damage is mostly healed, thanks to the biotic field and his own enhanced immune system. When feeling his hip, he’s hyper aware of how his fingers press easy into soft flesh.

It feels like the first time he’s done this, really see what’s become of his figure after all these years. He stares hard in the mirror, picturing his younger self. Nothing but muscle back then, kept especially lean and defined with the help of that restrictive diet. Looking at his bare chest, he knew all that bulk was still there. Now everything was a bit more padded, rounded and smoothed out. The biggest difference was his middle; budding lovehandles joining up with a gut sticking out enough to hang over the waistband of his pants. Reaper’s words replay in Jack’s head.

“Guess its official,” he sighs to himself with a lopsided smile. Both hands reach down and grab his paunch, squishing it to where it stuck out even further. “I’m a fatass.”

At one point in his life that might have meant something. Might have been some concerning dilemma that needed to be solved quickly. He keeps rubbing and poking his belly, thinking the feel of it quite comforting, actually. He’d found growing softer to be alright.

It was no surprise how he gained the weight. After somehow crawling out of the explosion, he spent a long, long time in stagnant “recovery”. He kept to corners of towns and cities where no one gave a fuck about who you were, which typically meant shady hotels and the bars surrounding them. For months he slumped over a dirty table, ordering whatever they would give him, mourned the people he lost, regretted everything he did. He was threatened to get kicked out many times from those places. Thought he was too much of a downer, no matter what he paid to stay.

He forced himself out of that state eventually, tired of being useless and desperate to find some explanation of what happened to Overwatch. Became Soldier 76. During that time, he thought for a second on going back to his old diet. Immediately he decided against it; he’ll eat what he needed and what he wanted when he felt like it. Didn’t care about looking a certain way anymore, only about getting the job done. Plus he realized now the choice to diet had never been entirely his.

There was an unspoken rule back in Overwatch. Sure, the founders enlisted only the most capable to fight back during the Omnic Crisis and onward. However, if you were to be the face of the organization, if you wanted to be globally recognized for your heroism, hell, if you were going to be on one of those damn enlistment posters, then you needed to look the part. So of course someone coming from years in the military needed to look like a soldier in tip top shape.

It only got worse when Jack was promoted to commander. Not only was the expectation within Overwatch weighing on his mind, but now there was more media to deal with. Lots of public announcements, interviews, meetings, what have you. Cameras taking shots of every angle of himself and critically analyzing them. Articles with images of him taking a walk in plain clothes and large bottle, people commenting on what he could possibly be drinking. Messages pouring in his inbox from fans complimenting his “hot bod.”

It’s not like dieting was all that hard, if Jack was honest with himself. At the time, he wanted to please everyone. He wanted the attention. It was just one of the ways he kept up appearances and tried so hard to keep Overwatch in a positive light, despite what was going on inside. His efforts were all foolish, all of it waste. Gabriel never would have done what he did if he was commander.

Gabriel. He rejected so many dinner dates with Gabriel. So many times they could have just talked and enjoyed themselves.

Jack tried to push out of those thoughts before they’d overcome him again. This was not the time to be standing around. Finding no other evidence on his person, he decides to strip and take a shower. Feeling less grimy always helps. As the hot water helped soothe his muscles, Jack felt the dull pain of hunger set in. He knew it had to be late morning, hours since his last meal.

He changes into a simple tee and some pants while searching his discarded pants. He’s thinking about where to shop until he finds all the pockets are empty. The key to his apartment should be there, there’s no other way in.

“Oh, don’t tell me I broke into my own place.” Jack groans inwardly. It wouldn’t exactly be the first time. He checks the windows, but everything looks intact. “Maybe I dropped–”

There’s a clicking noise from the front of the apartment. Eyes flying wide, Jack bursts into a dash. The door was definitely being unlocked, but the possibilities of who was there was few. Some people on his team knew where he lived currently, but they shouldn’t have a key. Even with his frames falling out of his place, he spots some large blunt object on the dining table. He grabs it and readies himself as the door cracks open.

A man steps in, dressed entirely in gray sweats. His face is concealed by the combination of his hood being up and wearing large, circular shades. There’s two huge bags slung over an arm and an iced coffee in the other hand. His head turns to the wooden spoon in Jack’s grip.

“Really?”

Jack’s mouth falls open, stunned. There’s no mistaking that voice. It’s him. _Gabriel?_

_No, focus!_

His senses crash back into him. Jack throws the useless weapon aside and storms toward Reaper. The other man doesn’t even flinch when Jack slams his hands to the wall, pinning him.

“What are you doing here?” He demands, a storm of emotions strangle his words. “What happened to the payload?”

“I’m surprised to see you awake. Thought for sure you’d be out for a while.” Reaper sounds amused. His lips curl to a big smirk. Those lips still look the same. The scar on the lower one is exactly how Jack remembers. A small black wisp creeps out of the corner of that mouth. It’s him. Here’s here.

“Answer me!” Jack tries again. His nails dig into the walls. “ _How did you get here?_ ”

“You don’t remember?” Jack could see a brow raise over those ridiculous shades. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t. You were so out of it that you got us fucking lost on the way here. Kept repeating directions every other minute. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“That…” Jack could do nothing but gawk at how nonchalant Reaper was being. “That doesn’t tell me anything!”

“Well maybe you should calm down before you overexert yourself and pass out again, old man.” Reaper says. He reaches his arm around Jack’s and takes a sip of his drink.

Jack’s fuming inside. How could he allow his enemy to come home with him? Who slips up that bad? He does, of course he does!

He bows his head closer to Reaper’s. Tries to be intimidating. “Give me one good reason why I should calm down.”

“I brought you breakfast.”

Jack blinks. “What?”

Reaper shakes the bags. “Yeah, right here. I was going to cook, but I see you’re too lazy to keep your fridge stocked.”

Jack tries to utter words, but then Reaper decides to _walk through him_. All he can see for a second is swirling black smoke. That smoke fills his lungs, causing him to cough and sputter. He spins sharply behind to find the re-materializing man place the bags on the table.

“Can you not do that!” Jack manages in between coughs.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Reaper mocks some troubled tone. “You had me trapped. I’m defenseless.” He pulls up one of the chairs and pats the seat. “Come on, I’m starving.”

Should he take the offer? Everything feels too crazy to be some trap. He can’t trust Reaper. He can’t.

Jack feels his his stomach begging for something. His eyes shift back and forth to Reaper and what he brought.

“What did you get?” Jack asks slowly. The words don’t feel right. This shouldn’t be happening. Gabriel hates him.

“When you got us lost last night, I found a bakery not far from here. Thought some pan dulce would be nice. You’ll like it.”

Sweets for breakfast. Nothing really has changed. Jack held back a smile at that thought. He realized while staring at Reaper, who was watching him, something about him had changed.

Jack must have missed it, paying more attention to the fight and objectives. It could have been Reaper’s outfit too; that long cloak obscuring his body well. That and almost never seeing the man completely solid. But he… he looked much bigger now.

Gabriel had always been a bit bottom heavy. Now, his thighs were exceptionally huge. Over double the size, Jack would estimate. His hips were much wider too, pulling the gray material of his sweats to their limit. He detected a generous amount of tummy too.

Looks like he wasn’t the only one who got fat.

“What are you staring at?” Reaper’s tone went sharp.

“It- It’s nothing.” Jack lied. He wasn’t going to let this realization change anything. “I’ll indulge with you, but you need to answer my questions.”

Reaper snorts, shrugging. “Whatever. You’re still too worked up. I didn’t kill you, did I?”

Jack inches toward the table, never breaking his gaze from Reaper while taking his seat. “That’s the biggest question on my mind. What happened to “this is our last time?””

“Hmph” Reaper crosses his arms and plops down into a seat of his own. The old wood of his chair groans noisily. He goes very still, not even breathing. Like he’s anticipating something.

“Uh, you okay?” Jack asks.

“I’m fine.” Reaper answers that way too fast. He shuffles through the bag while an awkward silence hung between them. He pulls out several rolls coated with pink and yellow sugar, and hands them all toward Jack. Jack hesitates only because he wasn’t expecting so many at once, but takes them nonetheless.

“Consider yourself lucky, Morrison. That night was going to be your last, until somebody set their explosives off a bit too close to my position. I was fine, but you-” he starts laughing, “you got a good chunk of the building above us, right to the head. Instant knock-out. Funniest shit I ever saw.”

_Really? That’s what did it?_ Jack bows his head, feeling his face burn. Sure it wasn’t entirely his fault, but wasn’t being an enhanced super soldier supposed to prevent situations like that? He really was getting old.

“So yeah,” Reaper continues, his previously stiff posture starting to relax. “I guess you could say that… killed the mood. Wasn’t exactly how I wanted things done. So I went back to work. Before you ask, yes, the payload’s in good hands now.” He’s smiling at that.

Jack shoves one of the rolls in his mouth. It’s excellent, rich in flavor and the sugar coats his mouth. He wasn’t going to show his approval though. He scowls instead. “I wouldn’t call Talon “good hands”.”

Reaper scoffs back, “and who said anything about Talon? It’s in my hands.” He takes a long drink of his coffee and then pulls out some more treats. He sets some for himself and hands Jack more, despite the food still in his hands. “I’ll decide whether or not they deserve it.”

Jack didn’t expect that response. Not that that knowledge reassured him. He watches Reaper eat up some rolls in a few bites, sucking on his fingers for a second afterward. A part of him had missed Gabriel doing that. He shouldn’t be thinking about those things.

“Hey,” Jack blurts out without thinking. Reaper pauses mid-bite of another sweet and glances over. “I thought souls were your main diet now.”

With that getup, Jack couldn’t read Reaper’s expression. He exhales sharply, black flowing out his nostrils.

“It can be.” Reaper says, voice flat. “Would you like me to do that instead?”

Jack admittedly feels a chill from that question. He hides it with a laugh, running a hand through his hair. His glasses fall down his nose. “Nah, I’m good.”

“I’d prefer this anyway.” Reaper continues to eat. He points at Jack, his finger a bit close to Jack’s face. “Nice shades, old man.”

“Right back at ya,” Jack doesn’t hide his sarcasm. “You gonna take yours off or what?”

“You sure you want that?” Reaper asks. Jack can tell he’s serious. He questions that himself. Does he want to see what became of Gabriel?

“Take them off, you’re inside.” Jack finally answers. He should see, he needed to know.

Reaper says nothing, but his lips pull tight as he reaches for his hood. He pulls it down and slowly removes the shades. Jack’s heart jumps to his throat when red eyes bore into him. Reaper’s gaze is black, except for those irises. They almost fucking glow. Gabriel’s face mostly looks the same. All the features are there, but his skin is less vibrant, textured with age lines and new scars. Scars that resembled burns. His once curly hair is buzzed short, hairline jagged from scarring.

Tons of memories pour into Jack’s mind. Times that face smiled at him for a job well done, when it was close enough to feel his breath, when it twisted in pain and rage before the world around them burned. Jack feels his chest begins to ache.

“Are you satisfied?” Reaper cuts through the mutual silence.

“Not really,” Jack mumbles, but he’s sure Reaper can hear. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, gathering his thoughts. Burying feelings. “We’re getting off topic anyway.”

Jack looks into those piercing eyes again. “How did we end up here? Why did you do this?”

Reaper breaks eye contact, idly playing with the straw of his drink. His nose wrinkles. “Make no mistake, I left you on the street when you knocked out. Figured somebody might strike it rich, finding this vigilante with a massive bounty over his head out cold like a jackass. Would have been hilarious. When the job was done, you were still there, and I…”

He interrupts himself, clearing his throat noisily and pulls new pastries from a bag. Looks like empanadas. “These, ah, got cheese in them. Want any?”

He’s being avoidant, that much Jack can tell. Still, he finds himself laughing weakly at the offer. “I still gotta finish the first couple rounds you gave me, but yes. I would like some.”

“Well, eat up. I got some chocolate filled ones too. Might be alright with that nasty coffee of yours.”

Gabriel always did like to get something with chocolate the most for breakfast. The ache in Jack’s chest grows.

“Well,” Jack smiles over at Reaper. “Thanks for not killing me, whatever the reason.”

Another smoke-releasing huff. “You’re still on my list.”

Jack didn’t doubt that. His smile falters, trying to stay positive but still very confused about what was going on between them. “Thanks for, uh, bothering to feed me too. I owe you a lot.”

Reaper seems to perk up at that. He looks at Jack, his face mixed with surprise and intrigue. “What do you mean by that?”

Jack fiddles with one of the cheese empanadas. He shouldn’t have said that, but he’s already fucked up this far. “I used to turn down a lot of your offers for great food. Like you said, for no real reason. I guess I regret that now.”

Now Reaper laughs, which is interesting because it sounds genuine. “You actually think about that?”

“Yeah,” Jack’s mouth pulls back up more into a smirk. “Like how you apparently think enough about me dieting in the past.”

Reaper mirrors the same look. “The past, that’s for certain. Think I almost broke a sweat carrying your huge ass back here.”

_You’re one to talk._ Jack laughs inwardly, making sure not speak. A quick glance downward revealed how the chair Reaper sat in could barely contain him. His hips and thighs stuck out the space in between the armrests. That same chair only grazed Jack’s in comparison. Jack’s hand tingled, wanting to touch, wanting to grab. He forces himself to look away, shoving more food in his face. He’s growing warm.

“Aww, did I hit a sweet spot?” Reaper’s teases, his voice low. He leans toward Jack, his chair protesting each second. Jack can feel the heat coming off him from this distance. Hear every breath. It’s shaking a bit. Jack’s paralyzed, unable to place words. Nothing that comes to mind would be appropriate. 

Reaper continues, “What happened Jack? You were so good at following the rules. Keeping everyone so happy, looking just right for them. Fucking boy scout.” 

He sounds so smug, making Jack think very clearly about their encounter the night before. Remembers those hands feeling him up while using that tone. Something clicks in his head. A bad idea probably, but…

“Laugh all you want,” Jack says. He puts a hand on his stomach, particularly soft and round, squished on his lap. Immediately Reaper’s eyes widen, focused on that place. “Joke’s on you. Actually, think I kinda like being a little chubby.”

He gives his tum a little slap, making it shake for a second. That ought to shut Reaper up. There’s no way he’d keep messing with him after that.

It kind of worked. Reaper said nothing for a long moment, looking so utterly stunned at what happened. Then Jack caught it, the slight color blooming on his cheeks. He must have felt it too, because he quickly covers his face with a hand.

“Do you?” 

There were a lot of emotions in those two words, but Jack knew. Reaper was _excited_ by that. He didn’t know how to handle this. He was certain that anything between him and Gabriel was long gone. He tried so hard to erase old fantasies, never dwell on old feelings. Those efforts were falling apart every minute Jack looks at those eyes.

He springs to his feet, panicking. “You know what, I could use more coffee! I need to make some right now, ‘scuse me!”

As he’s turning away, there’s a brush of fingertips on his hand. His whole arm burns. He hears Reaper moving.

“Hold on, where are you–? Jack, come back- shit!”

The alarm in Reaper’s voice forces Jack to look, and freezes at the sight. It happens only for a second, but the chair is stuck to Reaper’s ass. He quickly resolves it by doing something to make the chair phase through him. It clatters to the floor. His red eyes, huge with disbelief, go from it to Jack. His wide open mouth twists into a frown.

“You say one thing and I swear I’ll take your head and I… I’ll…”

Reaper’s expression softens. Jack knows he’s absolutely flushed now. The fact that Reaper’s hips were so wide that this could happen… why did it make him feel so hot?

An odd smile spreads on Reaper’s face. “Are you _blushing_?”

Fuck, he was. Jack couldn’t convince him otherwise now. His feet move on their own, closer to Reaper. After a moment, the other man does the same. They’re right in front of another, breathing slowly, checking each other out. No one moves, so unsure.

“Honestly,” Reaper says, much more gentle than before. He looks at Jack with heavy-lidded eyes, full of want. “I kinda like you being chubby too.”

That ignited Jack, bringing a new life into him. He closes the gap, making a noise deep in his chest. Their lips crash, sloppy and desperate. Reaper kisses back with the same ferocity, hands digging at Jack’s back and sides. The taste of coffee lingers on Reaper’s lips, making Jack moan with pleasure. It was better than what he was drinking earlier.

Jack feels a hand wrap around his arm. He allows Reaper to guide it downward, resting a hand on one of his enormous thighs.

“You like that, yeah?” Reaper says, voice rough between kisses. Jack groans, squeezing Reaper’s thigh in response. There’s so much to grab, it makes Jack’s heart race. It was more than he ever imagined. Damn, maybe he will pass out. He kisses up Reaper’s neck, loving the slight tickle of the man’s facial hair on his cheek. 

“How did you even manage to get this big?” Jack breathes in Reaper’s ear. His arm isn’t even long enough to fully cup Reaper’s ass. Granted, some of that is because both of their larger bellies added more space than what he was used to. Their shifting against each other was making Jack’s shirt ride up. He considers removing it entirely, the thought of skin on skin contact almost making him dizzy. He hadn’t touched someone in so long.

He feels the rumble of Reaper laugh. “Now why should I share when you’ve been avoiding the same question?” His hands travel to Jack’s waist, detecting the rising hem of his shirt. Almost as if he read Jack’s mind, his hand slides under the fabric. Rough, but warm fingers rub Jack’s stomach. The sensation sets Jack off further, going back to Reaper’s lips and kissing harder. He wraps his arms as much as he can around Reaper. Softly claws at any rolls he finds, at the delightful mounds of lovehandles. Jack’s fingers tease the very tight waistband of Reaper’s sweats, but he doesn’t dare go further. He’s deep in a haze, wondering how anything happening was real.

Something bumps beside him, making Jack realize they drifted their way back to the table. Not being a very sturdy piece of furniture itself, its shaking with every move the two of them make against it. In the corner of his eye, he watches one of the bags start to sag, its contents pouring out. Shit, did Reaper buy out the whole place? Even with all they ate, there was so much left.

Reaper places a gentle hold on Jack’s chin, turning full attention back on him. He bites his the bottom of his lip. “You wanna get get back to those?”

Jack tilts his head further in Reaper’s hand with a hum. “Yeah, but- not yet. Fuck, I can’t,” he looks down, chuckling like there’s not a care in the world. Like everything was fine again. “I can’t believe you’ve got a thing for this.” His hand goes over the one Reaper had on his tum. 

Reaper smiles, actually looking somewhat shy about it. A lot of black flows out of his mouth and around his body like steam. A bit more color shows on his cheeks. “I dunno man, it’s just… you feel so good. I fucking love it. Kinda always have.”

Always? Jack straightens up and readjusts his glasses, crooked from all their activity. “Even back when we were–” _together, still friends. Back when I wasn’t as much of an ass?_

“Heh, yeah.” Reaper shrugged. “Back then too. Not that I thought of you any different then. You wanted to diet, fine. But,” he starts massaging Jack’s stomach in slow, circular motions. “I’m glad you don’t anymore, okay?”

"Please,” Jack rolls his eyes, “You tempted me every chance you got.”

“Not like that did anything, you stubborn dick.” Reaper pouts. He throws a small, playful punch at Jack’s shoulder. It blow leaves enough of pain for Jack to rub it. 

Jack laughs. “You were close to getting me to quit, more than a few times. Watching you eat all that food, you made it look more delicious. I liked to… watch you.”

Some epiphany flashes on Reaper’s face from that. Then it turns to a naughty grin. “All that time, I thought it was just the food you were staring at so desperately. You’re real selfish Jack, getting off then and never letting me in on the fun.”

Even if that statement made Jack hot and red, there was an awful truth behind it. He was selfish way back, still is now. He would change that, Gabriel deserved it. He always deserved better. 

Jack nods to the table, motioning at the sweets poured out. “I said I owe you, so how bout this.” He takes off his shirt, grabs as many pastries as he can. Sticks one handful of them up to his lips and runs his tongue over them dramatically. He sees Reaper swallow hard. “I’ll eat everything on this table, if you want me to. You can watch and enjoy every bit.” He’s sure he can do it no problem anyway. He was still very hungry.

Reaper exhales, breath trembling. “I’d like to see you try.”

That was enough. Jack bites down on every sweet in his hand, till his mouth is full. He finds the right pace to chew, enough to finish everything he had in seconds but enough to clearly show he was enjoying the food. Which he was; the sweet bread and sugar gave a very satisfying fullness inside with each bite. He vocalized his pleasure with deep, vibrating hums and loud lip smacking after he swallowed.

Reaper crumbles with each passing moment. There’s still shock on his face, repeatedly cursing with a thick voice and licking his own lips. Jack couldn’t remember the last time he saw Gabriel liking something this much. Reaper approaches, not walking but sliding over in a half smoky form. He appears beside Jack, sliding one arm around his back. He buries his face in Jack’s shoulder, leaving wet kisses. Jack cranes his neck, allowing Reaper more space.

“Keep going, Jack.” Reaper says, raspy.

He obeys, but changes up his method. He finishes more food and then turns his head to Reaper’s, wanting his kiss him. Wants Gabriel to taste him. The man understands, enthusiastically pushing his tongue past Jack’s lips. The hand on Jack’s back travels to his ass, roughly grabs and then slaps enough to actually make Jack flinch. The lingering tingle makes him sigh with arousal. The heat he was feeling all over was finally building in his groin.

When Reaper brushed closer against Jack, he could feel the already apparent bulge. This was really happening. He could still make Gabriel react this way.

Reaper pulls back and reaches over. Jack watches him go to the other bag. “You’re forgetting about these.” He playfully mentions. The chocolate filled ones, of course. He smiles at Jack, holding one up to his lips. “Eat up.”

Blushing, Jack closes his eyes and opens his mouth. He thinks the offer is adorable. Nothing happens, until he hears Reaper moan. Jack looks to see Reaper eating instead.

“You little shit!” Jack yells, but he breaks out in giggles.

“Yeah, I don’t think I could let you have all the food, even if I wanted to. You’re making it look too good to resist.” Reaper starts on another sweet with a huge bite. Immediately a blob of chocolate bursts from some crack. He catches it and looks at it, thinking. Eyeing Jack, he shakes the empanada forcefully enough for the chocolate to fall on his chest.

“ _Oops._ ”

Reaper finishes eating, than then goes down before Jack can respond. Jack’s breath hitches, feeling a hot tongue on glide on his chest. He watches, panting as Reaper smears the chocolate with his mouth, then licks it clean on his softened pecs. He kisses hard, sucking flesh enough that Jack knows there will be marks later. Automatically, a hand goes on Reaper’s head. Feeling a bold rush through his body, Jack encourages him downward. Reaper gladly complies, leaving a wet trail of kisses on his way down Jack’s belly, jutting out further now and skin tight.

Reaper’s face brushes against Jack’s groin. He places his hands on the waistband of Jack’s pants and looks up. His eyes question Jack, bright and hopeful. How could Jack refuse that face.

Jack runs his hand on the back of Reaper’s head, savoring the feel of his hair. “Please,” he says, more desperate than he intended.

“I will, but” Reaper tilts his head on Jack’s thigh, smiling wide and gleefully. “Can you keep eating?”

“Fuck yeah I can,” Jack immediately grabs whatever he can reach behind him. This was so hot, he never thought about going this far, but fuck, this was fine. This was totally fine.

Reaper takes Jack’s pants down halfway. Since he got out of the shower, Jack didn’t bother with underwear. His cock bobbed out once free, already fat and red with desire. He starts by kissing it up and down the shaft, stopping at the head sometimes and running his tongue at Jack’s slit. The teasing motions made Jack shake, having to carefully keep himself from using the table as support. That probably wouldn’t go well, but there was no stopping now.

Jack devours more and more, uncaring and likely a bit sloppy now. He never stops looking at Reaper, who shifts focus between his dick and watching Jack eat. There’s grunts and groaning, wet noises when Reaper’s mouth takes Jack back and forth. Jack shudders when feels his dick pulse, getting closer to the edge. His legs tingle and go numb, his eyes start to sting.

Reaper pulls back, his swollen lips slick and almost drooling. He smiles up at Jack, looking so accomplished, brimming with pride. 

“I want you to come in my mouth,” he pants. “That alright? I wanna fuckin–”

“I know you do!” Jack remembers. His heart is pounding, so overwhelmed and excited. “ _Please, Gabe! You’re so good to me, I–_ ”

Reaper sticks Jack’s cock back in, deep in his throat. The walls in his throat contract around Jack, making the most amazing feeling. A few more pumps and Jack’s muscles go slack. With a strained whine and desperately holding on to Reaper, Jack’s body goes tight as he releases. His load goes and goes, but Reaper’s ready, swallowing enough that only a little cum drips down his chin. The sight is still breathtaking.

With what energy he had, Jack takes his hand and wipes what remains on Reaper’s face after he pulls out. Both men just smile at each other for what felt like forever. Jack traces his thumb over those beautiful lips. Reaper gently urges Jack forward with a hand, and Jack lets himself fall into the man’s embrace. Every bit of him so plush and welcoming, Jack sighs in Reaper’s chest.

“Don’t get sentimental on me, old man.” Reaper whispers in Jack’s ear. 

“Sorry,” Jack mumbles, his head feeling light. His hand trails Reaper’s pants, sliding his fingers under this time. “Come on, you’re turn now. I’m gonna make you feel so good, Gabe.”

Reaper opens his mouth, but then his entire face goes cold. There’s a pounding at the door. Once again, Jack’s startled at the sound.

“Jack! Please tell me you’re there!”

It’s Ana. Hearing her sets a mix of relief and fear pour into him. Jack looks at Reaper, whose mind is already elsewhere, planning.

“Fuck me,” Reaper growls, mainly to himself. He glances over at Jack, the disappointment clear in his eyes. It hurts to see. “Gotta cut things short, I guess.”

Reality crashes back in Jack’s mind, but his body is still not registering. Reaper lets him go, but Jack struggles to keep straight. He doesn’t know what to do.

“I hear someone in there. Open the door!” The pounding is more frantic, the door is turned a few times.

“Wait, wait!” Jack tries to take Reaper’s arm. His hand only grabs air, going through Reaper’s body. He turns entirely to smoke, only glowing red eyes remained. “We can’t just leave it like this!”

Not that they have a choice, Jack knew that. This was a mistake, he knew that from the start. They shouldn’t go any further than this. It would only cause problems.

Reaper goes to one of the windows on the side. Jack watches as its somehow pulled up and the smoke creeps out bit by bit. The doorknob is only making noises now. Ana’s probably breaking in. Jack’s head is spinning.

He attempts to pull himself together. Reaper’s body is mostly gone, but those eyes are still on him. He’s still there.

“Let’s do this again.” Jack tells him. “Somehow, I don’t know. We can figure it out.”

It’s a bad plan. It’s selfish. So much could go wrong.

“I’d like that.”

He’s gone. Jack doesn’t spare another second. He’s the distraction. He scrambles to the door just before it flies open. Ana’s alone, but she’s armed with her sleep dart, looking determined. She aims it at Jack only for a second before letting her guard down. Her eyes search the apartment.

“Jack. You’re… okay?” She stares at him, more confused each second. “What happened? You vanish last night, and then our mission went sour. I thought for sure someone kidnapped you, or worse–”

She catches the bags over on the table, which only have a few sweets left. Jack isn’t sure what to say, unable to decide whether to tell her the truth. He trusted her with everything once, and she knew about him and Gabriel before, but now?

Ana’s face turns to a tight frown. “What is going on, Jack? You had me, no, all of us worried! And I find you here, completely fine and apparently enjoying a nice breakfast.” She crosses her arms, waiting for an explanation.

Jack can only laugh, sounding like a complete fool. “Listen, I can… well…” He gestures to the table. “You want something to eat?”


End file.
